Chapter Eight
"Okay okay, just slow down a minute." Riddler coaxed as Waylon paced up and down the hall. "You said you saw Madeline?"
"Yes!" Waylon snapped for the hundredth time.
"With the lizard?" Riddler clarified for the hundredth time, getting it wrong for the hundredth time again.
"NO!" Waylon roared, getting frustrated. "She was the lizard!" Seriously, Riddler was supposed to be smart, how hard was this to comprehend?
"That's... That just doesn't make any sense though." Riddler question, looking puzzled with his brow furrowed. "How?"
"I don't fucking know!" Waylon growled, throwing his hands in the air. He paced down the hall again and stopped at the end. He was angry and confused, not a good combination. How had Madeline been turned into that creature? Why? And by whom? He'd only had one question, but answering that it only given rise to thousands more. In frustration he punched the wall, smashing through the brick and leaving a messy dent. It was so fucking confusing.
"So, what is this thing then?" Jack asked, examining the little silver owl as he sat perched on the edge of Riddler's desk. The annoying brat was never going to leave now that he knew his sister was alive.
"Another fucking thing I don't fucking know about." Waylon grumbled, stalking up and down the hall again. He had his eyes set on an old portrait hanging on the wall to destroy next.
"Give it here." Riddler said, snatching the figure from Jack's hands to examine it. "It looks like it's made of solid silver, hand crafted too. The detail is extraordinary."
"Then put it on Antiques Road Show or something I don't fucking care. Just tell me what the fuck it means." Waylon ordered, growing impatient with all this pondering. He wanted answers so he could take action. He wanted to find out exactly who had turned Madeline into that creature, where they were and how he could find them to make them all suffer for what they had done.
"I'm trying to figure that out, and it would be a hell of a lot easier if you calmed down and stopped pacing about. It's distracting." Riddler hissed, swiving his chair around to the desk so he could examine the figure more closely.
Waylon didn't have the patience to deal with Riddler's frustration, and stalked down the hall, through the doors and back outside. He stalked down the steps and over to the water's edge where he stood looking out over the Gotham river, the city lights illuminating the horizon in a yellowish glow. He stared at the city before him, all the people that called Gotham home, one of them had to know something about Madeline. Someone had to have some idea of Madeline's location and who was responsible for turning her into that creature. Although, as the cold wind howled and the water lapped at the edge, Waylon knew that he was the blame for everything.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the emerald pendant he'd retrieved from Madeline's box in the crypt. He held it up by its silver chain and gazed at it longingly.
"Madeline." He whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips. "Where are you?"
"So are we going to try and find her or what?" Jack interrupted, startling Waylon and annoying him some more. He shoved the pendent back into his pocket and glared at Jack.
"There is no we. I am going to find Madeline. You are to stay here until I find her, or better yet, you could go home." Waylon suggested, folding his arms and peering down at the kid who just kicked the dirt with frustration.
"I'm not leaving without my sister. And stop treating me like a little kid, I'm nineteen!" Jack whined, proving his point otherwise.
"You're a kid who thinks he's tougher than he actually is. Keep that attitude up and you'll get yourself killed. Especially in Gotham."
"I am tough. I get into fights all the time at home and always come out on top." Jack boasted, puffing out his chest. "I got muscles too." He was closer to looking like Riddler rather than a street thug. Waylon sighed and shook his head.
"There's more to being tough than strength alone." Waylon grumbled, possibly sounding like some mentor in a movie he once saw. He couldn't believe he was preaching that there was more to being tough than strength considering he was 700lb of pure muscle and had no brains to speak of yet still held the title of the toughest criminal in Gotham. But what else constituted toughness? Endurance perhaps? The ability to get through some of the hardest situations despite all odds.
"Your sister was tough." Waylon added after a few moments of thinking. "She was a lot tougher than me."
"What? How?" Jack asked, sounding bewildered, confused and slightly annoyed. He was a little bit like Waylon in that respect.
"I dunno. She didn't give up easy. She didn't give up on me, even when things got bad." Waylon explained meekly, sitting down on a large rock by the water's edge. "And things got bad a lot." Madeline had to be the toughest person on the planet, or the dumbest, for being able to make it work with Waylon for as long as she did. Waylon wasn't easy to get along with or to deal with then he was having a bad day, but she'd made it work time and time again. Even when faced with his Killer Croc side, even after he clawed her arm and terrified the shit out of her when he lost it in the night club. She'd dealt with it and moved on. On some occasions, Waylon was fairly confident he wouldn't have been able to cope without her support and her strength. Even when they broke into Penguin's place Madeline had stayed tough and dealt with it all, heck, she'd fired at a gun at Bane for god's sake instead of hiding in the corner like any normal person would do.
"You know, when I was little, our mum was never really around so Madeline looked after me all the time. You're right about her being tough." Jack began, and Waylon's ears pricked up. He didn't really know much about Madeline's childhood, other than the fact her mum had addiction problems.
"What was she like when she was younger?" Waylon asked, unable to stop himself asking when the last thing he wanted to do was talk to Jack some more. Still, he was genuinely curious about Madeline's childhood, before he went and ruined her life. Jack seemed quite happy for the opportunity to talk about it and sat down on the low wall that ran around the edge of the property.
"She was really cocky and headstrong. Always getting into fights at school and occasionally bringing them home with her. This one time, she got into a fight with this dickhead from her school and almost ripped his ear off with her teeth."
Waylon couldn't help but laugh at that. Damn, he hadn't realised how alike he and Madeline were. Made sense that they'd gotten along so well and so quickly.
"I remember this one time, the local bikers came looking for our mum to get some money off her, but she was out somewhere at the time and Madeline had to deal with them." Jack explained, hunching his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "They were big and scary looking, but Madeline wouldn't even let them in the house. They threatened to do stuff to her but she just looked them in the eyes and said 'do whatever the fuck you want to me but if you so much as touch my little brother I promise you I will rip your throat out and feed it to your dog'. They never tried anything with her and eventually got their money, but I do recall never being bothered by them as I was growing up. I guess they didn't want to risk it."
Waylon could very easily imagine Madeline fulfilling that promise. She was indeed the kind of person that would do anything to protect the people she cared about. Heck, she'd stood in front of the GCPD officers sent to bring Waylon in, guns and all, with her arms splayed out to protect him. And what had he done in return? Killer her? And even then, she still tried to protect him from himself with her dying breath. Only, it wasn't her dying breath, she was still alive and now physically capable of doing all the crazy things she promised her enemies. The question was, after all this time, was Waylon still someone she cared about?
"Who ran over my head with a truck last night." Madeline complained as she sat up in her bed. Her head was pounding worse than any hangover. It felt like she'd had her head bashed with a sledge hammer, not to mention her body hurt like she'd just gone toe to toe with an elephant. What the heck had they done to her? Or rather, what the heck had she done when they'd turned her into whatever the fuck they were turning her into.
"Late night huh?" Jason asked with a chuckle.
"Oh yeah, totally got wrecked and partied until the sun came up." Madeline groaned, a little too tired for her usual level of sarcasm. "What the fuck are they making me do?"
"If I was injected with some sort of mysterious drug and woke up feeling awful with no memory of what happened, I honestly wouldn't want to know."
"Oh hardy har har, good one." Madeline hissed, rolling her eyes but even that hurt. She slumped down with her back against the wall and tried to force the world to stop spinning around so painfully.
"So, out of curiosity, what do they do to you when they take you off to the labs?" Madeline asked after a few minutes of trying to will her pain away.
"Usually they just try to push me to my physical limits, make me balance on a tight tope upside-down with one hand. That sort of thing." Jason said casually. Madeline have certainly preferred to do stuff like that over being knocked out every night, but she imagined the tasks Jason had to do were for quite extended periods of time considering how long he was away for at a time.
"Why?" Madeline asked. Were they trying to create the perfect human specimen or something?
"I think they're trying to turn me into Batman." Jason answered honestly with a sigh, he sounded fairly dismal about the prospect. Madeline processed it for a few moments. Of all the people to try and turn into Batman, for whatever reason, an ex-Robin and Arkham Knight who almost defeated Batman himself would be the perfect candidate. But why?
"What do you reckon they do to Lonnie?" Madeline asked, glancing at the man in the cell across from them, curled up and shivering with fear. The poor guy always looked so traumatized. Whatever they did to him was certainly causing deep psychological scars that were slowly driving him mad.
"I heard a rumour about him." Jason whispered, as if it would be dangerous for anyone else to hear. Madeline moved and pressed her ear up against the wall, keeping an eye on Lonnie to make sure he wasn't listening.
"What is it?" She asked in an even more hushed whisper.
"Apparently, and this is just a rumour, but apparently they're trying to turn him into The Joker."
"What!" Madeline exclaimed very loudly, and quickly covered her mouth but the sound was already out there. Everyone glanced at her, some with irritated expressions and others with confusion. Even Lonnie looked up, his tired eyes so weary and void of life. Madeline couldn't figure it out though. Why did they want to turn Lonnie in Joker of all people. Was that what they did at this facility, turned people into other people? If Jason was to become Batman, was Lonnie to become Joker, and so on and so forth with everyone else. If that was the case then who were they trying to re-create with her?
"Like I said, it's just a rumour." Jason clarified, sounding annoyed with Madeline's little outburst.
"But why Joker?" She asked, whispering once more even thought Jason had returned to normal volume.
"Beats me. I dunno why they select the people they do for the reasons they do it. History, genetics, personality, ethnicity, relationships, who knows? You could be in here because of your relationship with Croc, or because you happen to have a specific set of genes suitable for whatever experiment they do on you."
"Ha, I have a specific set of jeans alright, expensive designer ones that make my ass look great." Madeline scoffed, rising a hearty laugh out of Jason, one she hadn't heard before. But the amusement was short lived as the doors opened and a group of people in hazmat suits walked in, one of them standing in the middle as if being guarded by the rest. They stopped outside of Madeline's cell and opened up their little circle to allow the middle one out. The woman. Madeline backed up against the far wall. She wanted to get as far away from this woman as possible.
"You did well on field test C. Quick and quiet, just like I told you." The woman said, sounding proud but also a little annoyed. "Sadly, Subject 2493 interfered and forced you to perform the task we had intended for field test D."
"Okay lady. Would you please stop using 'subject this' and 'field test that' and speak plain English for once. It's hard to keep up."
"Yes, I'd imagine it would be hard for you to keep up with." The woman sneered, and Madeline felt her blood boiling in her veins.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Madeline snapped, stalking forward and standing face to face with the woman. She seriously wanted to tear this woman's throat out. The woman didn't flinch and merely chuckled at Madeline's attempt to seem intimidating.
"It means what you think it means. Be thankful that you now serve a purpose, as a piece of trailer trash you should be grateful at the opportunity we have given you to be so much more." The woman boasted, puffing out her own ego while stomping on Madeline's. Madeline found herself growling at the woman, something she'd never done before and didn't even realise she was doing until the vibration caused her head to hurt again. The woman chuckled at Madeline's surprise to hear herself growl and Madeline just knew the woman had a smug smile on her snooty face.
"You bitch, when I get out of here I'm going to..." Madeline threatened, but the woman interrupted her half way through.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word." The woman warned, almost a threat. Madeline felt a chill run down her spine and her body froze up. How did she know about that? The woman turned and rejoined her little hazmat entourage before walking off, leaving Madeline to slump down onto the floor, a look of total shock on her face.
"Nothing has shown up on the cameras yet." Riddler said through the earpiece as Waylon sat in the slowly emptying warehouse.
"Yeah, I figured as much." Waylon grumbled, watching the last of the crates get moved into the back of the food trucks. The last thing he wanted to be doing was working for Penguin. Now that he knew Madeline was alive he wanted, no, he needed to be out there searching for her. She'd hit Gotham every night so far, she had to show up again and soon. He didn't want to be on one side of Gotham in a stuffy warehouse if she showed up on Riddler's cameras on the other side. He didn't care about the money Penguin was paying him either, he just wanted to find Madeline.
He quickly switched the earpiece off when he spotted Lark approaching with a seductive saunter, mischief plastered onto her face.
"Who you talking to?" She asked, not sounding interested in the answer so much as the opportunity to talk to Waylon again.
"No one." Waylon grumbled, getting off his seat to walk away from the annoying woman. Why was she so interested in him anyway?
"Shame. I was hoping you would double cross us so I could have an opportunity to fight you. Tonight is being so boring." Lark complained, following Waylon as he tried to walk away from her.
"Sorry to disappoint you." Waylon lied, stopping when he realised there was no escaping this woman.
"You know what you could do to help me stave off the boredom?" Lark suggested seductively, etching dangerously close to Waylon. "We could sneak out of here and find a nice, quiet little..."
"Can you just fuck off!" Waylon snapped, interrupting Lark mid seductive efforts and being a little more aggressive than he'd intended. He was really getting annoyed with her, especially since he now knew Madeline was alive. Even so much as looking at another woman seemed like cheating, even if he felt no attraction to her what-so-ever.
Unluckily for him, Lark appeared to be even more annoyed than he was. The insult of rejection did not sit well with any woman, and Lark certainly looked like a woman who made hell's fury pale in comparison.
"Listen buddy. I've been nothing but nice to you and this is how you thank me?" Lark hissed, her expression suddenly becoming very ugly as her gothic makeup contorted into a menacing scowl. "Look at me. I'm so scorching hot Poison Ivy would look like a weed in comparison. And I've been offering you, of all people, a chance to get a taste." Waylon snorted with amusement. Lark wasn't that hot, and since human women didn't turn Waylon on anymore she was even less attractive in his eyes. Waylon's amusement did not make Lark happy one bit and the woman put both her hands on her hips, and her game face on.
"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Lark hissed. "What? Because you killed your little whore girlfriend you can't fuck anyone for free? Give me a fucking break..."
Waylon wasn't entirely sure what happened, but before he knew what was going on he had Lark pinned against the wall, slowly crushing her neck with his claw.
"Don't you EVER say ANYTHING about her!" Waylon snarled, baring his teeth and snarling so close to Lark's face his hot breath left moisture on her face as she wriggled in his grip. "She is so much more than you will EVER be, and deserves to be treated with respect. So you better not mention her again or I won't be so kind as to kill you before I tear the flesh from your bones and have you SCREAMING FOR DEATH!" Waylon roared so loud everyone froze up with terror, petrified that any movement would set him off. Lark's face was stricken with horror and she looked like a small child who had just seen Satan get his head blown off. Waylon would not have someone like Lark insulting Madeline in that way, and he didn't care if the level of rage he was feeling right now sent him over the edge into a killing frenzy, he was going to get his point across.
Letting go of Lark's neck, the woman dropping into a heap on the floor before scurrying to safety, Waylon spun around to address the rest of the people in the room.
"Anyone else got anything to say? Because I don't mind having a late night snack!" He threatened, deliberately licking his lips to instil a little more fear if his appearance wasn't enough by itself. No one dared say anything and they all scurried back to work. Waylon growled with indifferent approval and stalked over to the corner. He could feel the monster inside him claw at the edges of his mind in a desperate bid to get out. He shouldn't have gotten so angry, now he had to deal with an ever eager Killer Croc wanting to escape. And he'd been doing so well recently too.
"Come on, keep it together." He ordered himself. "Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you... DAMN IT!" The song didn't work when he did it, or at least it didn't work on the self.
"You are so not going to get paid." Lark interrupted, and Waylon spun around to see Lark standing just a little bit behind Bossworth for protection. Pathetic.
"We will report this to Penguin." Bossworth warned in his dull monotone voice. Waylon shrugged and walked straight past them.
"I don't fucking care, tell him what you like, and he doesn't have to pay me!" Waylon growled as he stalked towards the exit. "I'm leaving, good luck dealing with Nightwing and Robin when they show up."
"Walking out on a job isn't very professional." Bossworth warned, trying to get Waylon to come back but failing miserably. "He won't hire you again."
Waylon ignored the threats and stalked outside into the cold night air. He switched the earpiece back on.
"Anything?" He asked, unable to help but sound desperate. He didn't want to have just walked out on a job for a night of standing about. He needed to keep busy, if he stopped he might just lose it.
"Yes, fucking yes!" Riddler yelled into the earpiece. "I've been trying to get through to you for ages. I got her on camera at the Monarch Theatre, its near your location! Get a move on!" Waylon snapped into action and headed North East. He didn't even bother to go into the sewer system since the underground rout took too long. He'd just have to risk being seen and hopefully avoid any caped crusaders. He just prayed that he got to Madeline before anyone else.
Does anyone know why they might be trying to turn Lonnie into The Joker. Anyone know why they would do it to Lonnie in particular? How does The Woman know about the lullaby, what is the significance of the silver owl figure, why do these people do what they do? In any case, Waylon has had enough working jobs for Penguin and dealing with Lark, his number one priority is finding Madeline. Hopefully that means he'll be quick about it so we can get some "fun" scenes into the story which I know you are all hanging out for. I hope everyone had a good Christmas and has a good New Year.
R.I.P George Michael
Sorry to see this was your last Christmas